


The Joke that Akashi Formulates

by berrybliss



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi's brand of fun, Akashi-Yukimaru friendship pls, Gen, Horse Girl AU, I break the fourth wall twice, M/M, Masaomi is still the iconic bad parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 09:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrybliss/pseuds/berrybliss
Summary: Akashi's sense of humor has always been unique.But it had to come from someone.





	The Joke that Akashi Formulates

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Discord Drabble Dump](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14587419) by [DarkWoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkWoods/pseuds/DarkWoods). 



> Note of import/News flash of the day: I've been off the knb grid for a while after being distracted by a tv show and surprise, Akashi Masaomi is still a cold iceberg.  
> For some context on what this even is, please refer to chapter 4 of Discord Drabble Dump by DarkWoods. That's where I heard of this AU.  
> I know this was supposed to be funny and believe me, the original fic was sappier than this. Thankfully I watered it down to become less serious. Not gonna lie, Masaomi really is just naturally an asshole that when I was writing the more sentimental, almost creepily redemptive version (eww), my entire system just said "nope". We don't know much about Masaomi, and he might be more complex than we thought, but I'm just gonna stick to bad dad for now.

The Akashis have never been very good at parenting. His wife is the exception to this rule, but outside of this, it’s fact. Can it still be fact if his wife is an exception?

If there’s any proof to how true this is, Masaomi hadn’t exactly grown up to become a very warm person. Arguably, less warm people can become good parents, but with his own parents’ conditioning and total control over his lifestyle, and the fact that he had a child for the sake of having one, he had been bound to encounter some bumps along the road.

Seijuurou is smart. He’s sensible, and he’s proving to become a winner like all Akashis are. It’s all smooth sailing, really. Hell, when asked – his hobby is _horseback riding,_ and that’s probably as good a hobby as any. It had been Shiori’s suggestion. _Cats and dogs are always gone so soon. Why not a horse?_

Seijuurou and Yukimaru are inseparable. It’s like the sibling Seijuurou never had.

* * *

 

“I won a math contest today, father.”

Seijuurou has never been a child full of giggling and large displays of affection, but when he holds up the medal, there’s pride in his eyes. They sparkle.

There had been a time like that, before victory became absolute.

* * *

 

“Shiori."

“Hmm?”

There’s a smile plastered on his wife’s face. She’s on his right side, Seijuurou on his left. They’re both onto something, and it surely is their doing because who else can it be?

A vein pops in his head. “I remember asking for salad.”

Shiori tilts her head to the side.

“You won’t know if you like it if you don’t try it.” She holds a spoonful to his mouth, “Open wide.”

“It’s _grass,_ Shiori.” He says with distaste. Can smell it so close, too – the scent of the earth – can visualize it, the taste of trampled mortals and crushing defeat. “Only the defeated eat dirt.”

That day, Seijuurou bursts into giggles.

Sunday becomes Grass Day, and Masaomi always expects grass on one of the plates. The exact same plate, every single time.

* * *

 

His wife becomes bedridden. During Sundays, there’s no grass served on his plates anymore.

Seijuurou’s lessons at home continue without interference as Shiori is confined to the hospital. He doesn’t ask about Grass Day, but he laughs less. When he rides Yukimaru and they trot off together, it’s always to some distant land where everything is fine and not crumbling down.

* * *

 

Seijuurou grows up, and this cannot be prevented.

He grows up without a mother, Masaomi without a wife. Masaomi cannot fault Shiori for wanting to be close to their son, but it leaves a hole that can’t quite be filled in the both of them.

If there’s anything Seijuurou is that Masaomi isn’t, it’s that he’s arguably more genuine in his associations. Friends are friends, not pawns to be used. Perhaps this will change over the years. Over dinner, their conversations are always of Seijuurou’s performance in academics and extra-curriculars. Masaomi lets it stay that way, but he isn’t oblivious enough to not know about how dear his son’s friends truly are to him.

Yukimaru included.

“He talks to his horse, master.”

The staff find it adorable.

* * *

 

When asked how Seijuurou is as a son, Masaomi keeps to himself the notion of how lucky he is to have a son like Seijuurou. People have nothing but praise. Now a high-school student, he’s proceeded to think for himself, to conquer every competition he sets foot in, bringing honour to the Akashi name.

Seijuurou never stops talking to his horse, apparently, but that’s alright. No one has to know. Yukimaru brings much needed warmth in his son’s eyes, because otherwise, he’s starting to mature faster than Masaomi could have ever imagined.

* * *

“Father, I’m taking Yukimaru out for a ride.”

It interrupts the otherwise prevalent silence. “You don’t need to ask for my permission.” Masaomi says, clipped.

Suddenly, there are rumors of a boy conquering the streets of Tokyo with a white horse. The helmet of the knight near their dining table is gone too.

Yukimaru has always been a patient horse and a good friend.

(Masaomi could learn from him, really.)

* * *

 

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Seijuurou?”

It comes off colder than intended.

The smile on Seijuurou’s face isn’t of happiness, but amusement. Perhaps he wants Masaomi to rue the day he started living.

“Why, not at all, father.”

* * *

 

“Where is Seijuurou?”

Tanaka, the butler, answers this for him. “He has just come home from basketball practice, Masaomi-sama. Please do not worry, he has been called for.”

Masaomi anticipates a normal dinner. It’s arranged such that the courses are served only when both he and Seijuurou are present. They rarely ever house guests. Truthfully, he’s less skeptical about Seijuurou’s strange passion for basketball now than he used to be. As long as he doesn’t start talking to the orange ball in his room, it’s just as well.

Seijuurou comes through the door in a new change of clothes. “Father.”

“You’re late.”

Unfazed, Seijuurou takes the seat on the opposite side of the table, the two of them resting on the far ends.

“There was ongoing construction, so Suzuki-san took another route.”

The first course is brought in. Tanaka serves Masaomi directly, laying down the plate. “Foie gras, sir.”

Masaomi has probably lost his senses. His mind, too, because what’s in front of him clearly isn’t foie gras.

“Foie grass,” Seijuurou says simply, as if to explain, eating from his own plate – which has normal foie gras – with a triumphant smile.

Masaomi almost dabs his mouth with a table napkin out of instinct, only to remember that he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

“… Excuse me.”

He walks out of the dining room.

Seijuurou and Tanaka exchange a smile. It lasts till when Masaomi returns. Masaomi, having regained his composure, slips into his seat.

“You’ve grown a twisted sense of humor, Seijuurou.”

The smile doesn’t come off, after all. “Always to please you, father.”

* * *

 

Omake:

“Seijuurou, I’d like to be perfectly honest with you.”

…. When is he not?

“That joke was atrocious. What a disgrace.” Masaomi shakes his head in disapproval.

“I’d like to see you try, then.”

…

…

“You’re the joke.”

Seijuurou sighs. “And they say my sense of humor is apathetic.”

_40 minutes later_

**How to Not be a Parent: Confessions Blog**

I told my father to tell a joke. He told me he had already made one.

I was the joke.

_Submitted by anon_

#our sympathies #damn #is this a jokey submission #I’m confused #whoever you are anon you deserve better than this

**Author's Note:**

> The summary of the fic made me realize that a fic about Akashi not being able to tell jokes because his father's jokes aren't any better has great potential lmao  
> And that is a total lie, Akashi was totally a cherub when he was younger. Masaomi just wasn't keen enough to actually notice ugh  
> Dear Masaomi:  
> 1) Pls support your child's hobbies ok  
> 2) Yukimaru is a better companion than you are, and he/she's a horse for god's sake  
> 3) Do not encourage your son to make his friends pawns  
> 4) You need a slap, thank  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
